Heroes Reborn
by General Texas
Summary: Some time after the primary events of Rise of the Archangel, a new generation of heroes step up to the batter's plate. Some fastballs, though, are hard to hit. Witness the lightning-fast Josiah, the scarred Matthew, and a revamped Jaune Arc as they rise their way to the top, making friends, facing enemies, and discovering the hidden past they hail from. God help these teen heroes.
1. Legends of Hope

**Hello, everyone. Yes, I know the title may not fit later chapters, for those of you reading this in the future. I may change it later on. (** _ **Mental note: this story used to be called Heroes Reborn**_ **).**

 **Some of you are probably wondering what I'm doing, writing two RWBY fics at once. Well, this is a sequel to Rise of the Archangel… okay, not exactly a 'sequel'-sequel, more of a 'happening-after-main-character-goes-to-school'-sequel. It'll make more sense in later chapters, I promise.**

 **As always, I don't own RWBY. However, some of the characters are based off of some from other things. Therefore, I'm going to say that I don't own Star Wars: The Force Unleashed, nor do I own Sonic the Hedgehog. Strange much? Yes. Make sense later on? Hell to the yes. Ugh, this is gonna be one heluva headache.**

* * *

 _ **Heroes Reborn**_

Sequel to _**Rise of the Archangel**_

Chapter I: Legends of Hope

* * *

(1st person, Vale 10:30 PM)

I was standing at the top of a building in downtown Vale, keeping an eye out over my hometown. I had my blue Hoplon shield on my back, a small gold gladius at my hip, and two gauntlets capable of firing off blue plasma, all at the ready. The breeze was weak, but it still felt nice blowing through my spiky royal blue hair. My green eyes scanned the dark horizon, seeing about ten miles out thanks to biological enhancements.

Gunshots to my left caught my attention, followed by other sounds of combat. All I could think was 'not another one' as I leaped off the building. Upon landing, I tore off my black cloak to reveal a blue hoodie with the arms torn off, a white t-shirt under that, black cargo shorts, and maroon sneakers. Extreme energy flowed through me as I began running faster than most airships could fly.

Running at sub-sonic speeds reminded me of what made me who I am: my father, being so smart, decided to combine my Aura with that of a cheetah and amplify it with some sort of technology. All when I was just a toddler; I only remembered because he kept on bragging about it to this day. Well, I still got something good out of it: the ability to run at supersonic speeds, blue hair, tough skin, and extremely long vision.

All in all, I got to the scene in about three seconds, even though it was about a half-mile away. A girl with a red hood, red hair, a red sniper-scythe, and black everything else was basically tearing into some guys with red swords and black suits. Both seemed to be on the offensive, so I sided with the winning side without thinking.

As a blue blur, I rolled into one of the guys with the red swords Hoplon-first; poor fella went soaring to tomorrow. A pummeled suit-man went flying at me, but I just sidestepped like it was nothing.

"Well you were worth every cent, surely _you_ were," a male voice muttered from behind me. "Well, Red, I think it's been an eventful evening—no thanks to Little Boy Blue over here—and as much as I'd love to stick around…" I saw a cane aim at the girl, the end popping open like it was a gun, "I'm afraid this is where we part ways."

Some sort of flare went flying at the girl, but I managed to catch it with an intense burst of speed.

"Jeez," I commented on the situation, tossing the flare to my left. "Watch where you point that thing; you could've, like, killed someone or something." I turned to face… empty air. "Wait, where'd you go?"

I looked up to a building across from the little shop I just now noticed. Up he goes, climbing a ladder to the roof.

"Hey, wait up; party just started. You don't wanna leave, do ya?"

I literally ran up the wall while the girl in red shot her way up. Somehow, this girl's gun ignores physics. Not like I pay attention to universal laws or anything, but that doesn't count.

"HEY," she caught the escapee's attention. I facepalmed, remembering the first time I did that and got my tail end served to me on a silver platter. Well, I guess it worked, because the guy stopped.

"Persistent," he grumbled as one of those carry-vessel… things rose up from the other end of the building.

"Ugh, you people really don't like universal laws, do you," I commented, starting to get bored of all the physics-bending occurrences. "First you can lift a huge scythe, then _you_ disappear. Then _you_ proceed to scale the building by shooting your gun, and now one of _those_ things just pops out of nowhere? Gimme a break, people."

"Hey, Blue," the crook shouted over the roar of the engines. "Dodge this!" He threw a Dust crystal at my feet, which I just kicked off the edge of the roof. "I SAID DODGE IT, NOT KICK IT!"

"Well, you never said how," I mentioned, snickering as he started losing his cool.

"SONOFA—okay, you win. Just do me a favor and die already." Another crystal, this one landing at the girl's feet. He fired off a flare, which I caught again.

"Ha ha," I mocked him. He lost it right there.

"Wise guy! I'll show you!"

"Oh, I'm seeing alright," I pulled another string. The now-identified ginger turned redder than the girl's weapon. He disappeared into the flying apparatus and came back out toting a chain gun.

"You like catching things, don't ya?" I shook my head. "WELL CATCH THIS!" A storm of bullets forced me to whip out my blue Hoplon and hide behind the shield. One of the bullets struck gold (and by gold, of course I mean Dust) and blew me up… literally. As lightweight as I was, it didn't take too much force to send me flying, and boy did I go flying.

"I can see my house from here," I shouted ecstatically, losing my joy of flight when I literally saw my house. "Oh wait, that is my house. Well played, Ginger."

When I came back down, I noted a blonde-haired huntress dressed in the odd combination of white and purple fighting alongside the scythe-wielder. Of course I had to land right on a fire-colored splotch on the ground that sent me up… again.

"Just my luck," I thought aloud, so annoyed that I was resting on the air with my hands folded behind my head. I flipped to where I was facing the airship head-first and activated my plasma-gauntlets. I went shooting down to the airship at Mach 1, just barely missing the aerial vehicle's right wing, and slammed into the roof of the building; the sonic boom rocked the machine violently to the side and sent a shockwave of dirt and dust (as in the dry brown stuff you find outside, not the energy propellant) rattling through the city. All of the racket must've messed up the ship's sensory equipment or something like that, because the craft flew away as fast as possible.

"Young man, do you know how dangerous that was," the blond-haired woman grouched at me. I just shrugged.

"Well, yeah," I confirmed, still snarky. "I just decided a sonic boom was better than another explosion sending me flying or another fight delaying the inevitable and causing even _more_ damage."

"Come with me," she growled, clearly unhappy with my performance. I just rolled my eyes, putting my shield in its rightful place on my back and following the lady off the roof, redhead in tow.

* * *

(3rd person)

(Capital of Vale, 2 hours prior)

Matthew Sharp was at a local pub, fixing the mechanical replacement for the arm he'd lost three years prior. He would never forget the red katanas that took his right forearm and severed his left calf muscle that forced an amputation. As grateful as he was about the young Outsiders that patched him up, he was far angrier towards the White Fang and Red Angels, a group of human supremists who worked outside the kingdoms committing crimes against Faunus, than the group of 17- through 24-year-olds that made up his new family were. Even worse, he was even angrier at the Red Angels for killing his father and uncle, taking him under their wing, and finally severing ties with him in more than one way.

Hours after sunset, he found the young man he was looking for.

"Good evening, Arc," he addressed the blond swordsman. "Ready for Beacon?"

"Yeah," Jaune muttered, toting what little he owned on his back. At his left hip was his sword sheathed in his shield. "I guess I am."

Jaune and Matthew had been training together for the longest of times. His family's farm had been overridden with Red Angel supporters since before Matthew found the Outsiders. Matthew, in an attempt to protect the blond and his family, trained Jaune in swordsmanship, even helping to forge his weapon and armor. Two weeks ago, while Jaune and Matthew were training on the farm fields, a group of Red Angel aerial supporters calling themselves the 'Red Bandits' attacked the 18 square-acre farm, killing off some of the livestock; Jaune's parents were not spared. Thankfully, his seven sisters weren't in the house, but that did nothing to help the blond's mood.

Matthew grabbed two shot glasses, each filled with a brownish-yellow liquid, and set one before his training partner. The young Arc stared at the glass, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

"What's this for," Jaune asked. Sharp just chuckled.

"My grandfather had an old family tradition," Matt explained. "When something criminal happens—family members killed by Red Bandits, for example—we drink a shot of whiskey, take the perpetrators out, and drink another shot."

"But, aren't we a little young to be drinking," came the frightened reply.

"I didn't say we ever got drunk, Jaune; I just said we drank a shot." Matthew took his glass up, said a silent prayer, raised his glass to the ceiling, and spoke "to justice," before downing the shot glass in one.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I just… never drank a shot of whiskey before." Matthew made a sound suggesting that he forgot something.

"I forgot to tell you something: when you first drink _to_ something or someone, you have to carry it out. Brings bad luck if you don't. Nearly set a bad example there; justice is the first thing I drank to."

Jaune lifted his shot glass and lifted it, raising it as if honoring his now-deceased parents, and downed it in one. The alcohol caught him off guard, making him nearly choke on the fluid. Matthew chuckled.

"It gets everyone on their first shot," he said, chuckling at his friend's coughing. A silver-haired man, wearing green and silver and toting a walking stick, noticed the two and walked up behind them.

"Underage drinking is unsafe, I hope you realize," the man spoke, scaring the living life out of Matthew. "Or are you, perhaps, honoring the dead?"

"Parents died a couple weeks ago," Jaune responded. "But I swear to God, I am not taking another drop of that—*cough*—whatever it is." Matthew rolled his eyes.

"I drink to Justice every month or so," Matthew added. "One shot only. Family tradition." The old man chuckled, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"I've seen you two training over the last couple of weeks," the elderly mentioned. "You both are quite impressive, despite your lack of transcripts." A cricket started chirping in the corner of the bar.

"Wait," Matthew damn-near shouted. "You're _the_ Professor Ozpin?! Aren't you supposed to be at Beacon, getting ready for the incoming semester?" Jaune paled.

"He's the headmaster," Arc whimpered, groaning when Matthew nodded. "Ugh, great. There goes my chances of getting into Beacon. Thank you _so_ much, Matt." The headmaster just chuckled and shook his head.

"Not necessarily, Mr. Arc," Ozpin responded. "I knew you two would be here from the start; I came bearing an invitation for each of you."

"Name your conditions," Matthew muttered, obviously not buying it. "There's normally a condition that follows invitations."

"There are none," he smiled.

"On second thought, a free ticket is always good," Jaune mentioned. "Count me in, I guess."

"Free is never free," Matthew mentioned cryptically, just like a wise old man would. "But I'll take my blessings where I can get them. I second that motion."

* * *

 **END**

 **A/N: I know I kind of confused some people there, so let me just clarify: the Red Bandits (mentioned in** _ **Rise of the Archangel**_ **) is what equates to the air force for the Red Angels. Jaune lives on the outskirts of a city which, in turn, is in the outskirts of Vale. His family owns a farm, and with everything outside the kingdoms being totally unsafe because of Grimm, the Angels and Bandits basically have no choice but to practically mug the Arc farm. With the Arc's not totally against the Faunus in the first place, they're obviously a target for the terrorist group. As for Matt, he is Aaron's little brother, and his side of things after their father's death will be explained.**

 **The Outsiders are a group of next-generation children of current and former Fang/Angels supporters and members. The goal of this small group is to end racism and violence amidst humanity as diplomatically as possible. Matthew, while not a member, per se, was basically saved by the group after the Angels tried to take his life. The first perspective I showed this chapter (whose name is Josiah) is actually a member of the Outsiders because of both groups mutating him into an unusable superweapon; Angels gave him supersonic speed and blue hair, Fang gave him pointy ears and enhanced hearing and vision.**

 **Before anyone asks or gripes about me skipping over his conversation with Goodwitch, Ozpin, and Ruby, I'm skipping it because: one, I don't want to; two, I feel that would bore some readers; and three, I don't really feel I could make it seem realistic. As for Jaune and Matt meeting Ozpin, I feel it could've happened a couple hours prior to Ruby's encounter with Roman, hence them speaking with Ozpin first.**

 **I didn't really like V3 E12 (Volume 3 finale) when I saw it, so I'm changing a few things around here and now. Jaune will no longer be as weak as he was in canon, and several mythical forces will be incorporated into one or two teams (as seen with Matthew being the brother of Aaron and thus a son of Angelus (see** _ **RotA**_ **) and Josiah basically being Sonic the Hedgehog). I warn you now beforehand, there will be some profanity, little romance, some crude humor, and lots… and lots… and MEGATONS of action. Maybe some foreseen OOC characters to fit the fic.**

 **For those who read Rise of the Archangel, fear not: I am not giving up on that fic. Seeing as how this fic takes place around 3 or 4 years after RotA, I feel it appropriate that I should work on both fics simultaneously (or as close to simultaneous as I can get).**

 **As always, tell me how you liked it in a Review, request any plot events or OC's in a PM, and I'll see you all next time.** _ **Adios**_ **.**


	2. Legends of Courage

**Alright everyone, I'm going to introduce some more main characters this chapter, as well as explain a thing or two about the Outsiders and Red Angels.**

 **Before I confuse people, let me put the perspectives in order for you:**

 **First: Peter Christian (OC)**

 **Second: Alan MacArthur (OC)**

 **Third: Neo/Matthew (explanation in his/her perspective)**

 **As I'll constantly say, even if I were to somehow score a job at RT, I still wouldn't own RWBY; that's Monty Oum's work (RIP, buddy).**

* * *

 _ **Heroes Reborn**_

Sequel to _**Rise of the Archangel**_

Chapter II: Legends of Courage

* * *

(3rd person, Limited view)

(Olympia, Vacuo, 22:29 Vacuo time)

A lightning-fast figure darted across the lush plains of Vacuo, huffing hard and fast as it soared over the valley at over 60 miles per hour. As a Faunus with a peculiar Semblance, the silhouette currently resembled a cheetah. On the highway, its shadow stormed across the light's reach, followed closely by the dark figures of three Bullheads. Peter Christian looked back at the White Fang Bullheads with his deep blue eyes, not bothering to show emotions he wasn't feeling. Of course he was breathing rather hard, only because cheetahs don't have much stamina in the first place. His Aura, at this point, and his Semblance were the only things keeping him running.

"Stop where you are," a voice shouted through a megaphone aboard the Bullhead on Peter's right. "Or else we will open fire."

The Faunus ignored them and continued to sprint. In fact, it seemed as though he only sped up.

The Bullheads were forced to take a sharp right turn when their target made a 90-degree on-the-dime turn suddenly. Three more Bullheads, these owned by Red Bandits, joined the chase; four rockets flew out of one, taking out the Fang-owned Bullheads and blowing Peter off of his feet, transforming him back to his human form. The Bandits landed their craft next to Peter's still-burning body.

A homeless, unarmed Faunus resting on a public bench was awakened violently when she heard the explosions. The armed culprits exited their vehicles and surrounded the area, detaining the young girl. Peter, supposedly still unconscious, snapped his eyes open, pupils slit like a cat's.

"Careful," one of the Bandits warned his fellow criminals. "This one's a Cat. Weapons trained on her." Around a dozen Dust-powered rifles targeted the harmless Cat Faunus.

In less than a second, at least half a dozen humans were flung like toys by a pair of titanic, 35-foot wings. The wings belonged to Peter, one of the few Phoenix Faunus still alive.

Growing 6-inch talons out of the fingers on his right hand, he raised the clawed hand and lit it ablaze. His eyes showed a bright fire inside of them as his now-glowing body lit up the entire park.

"Weapons down, gentlemen," Peter growled, growing out 3-inch fangs where his canine teeth should be. "And please leave the area. I'd hate to make an unnecessary mess of things in such a beautiful park."

The Bandits cowered from him in total terror, knowing full and well what a Phoenix Faunus of his caliber was capable of. After a few minutes of just standing there, the Bandits scurried to their Bullheads and took off. Whirring rotor blades in the distance got louder quickly as Outsiders brought out one of their Apache Attack Helicopters and flew in hot pursuit of the criminal gang.

Peter relaxed, letting the fire sputter out, the talons and fangs sink back in, and his wings fold perfectly across his back. After that happened, he walked over to the homeless Faunus girl. She stepped away, back to her bench, and curled up in a little ball on the seat. A fuzzy black tail wrapped itself around her small body almost protectively.

"Hey, it's alright," Peter whispered, trying to get her to calm down. "I'm not going to hurt you." A big hazel eye poked out from behind the tail. "I promise." The tail uncovered her face, resting on her chest.

' _The lass can't be more than a year younger than I_ ," Peter assumed. ' _I wonder why she's so nervous around me._ '

"You sure," she stuttered, obviously afraid of the Phoenix Faunus. He nodded, his bright blue eyes radiating warmth. The tail covered her face again.

"Oh, come on," he complained, almost whining. "What's the matter, ma'am? What is it about me that's scaring you so damn bad?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," she whimpered, obviously afraid of something.

"Calm down," he spoke calmly but firmly, catching her attention. "What has you so nervous around me? I'm not like everyone else."

"Even you'd hate a Kitten Faunus," came her barely audible response. He nodded, understanding everything instantly. Kitten Faunus were basically feline Faunus with no defining traits, still developing their definite features; while they were often stronger or more cuddly than other Cat Faunus, they were discriminated against by both Faunus and humans. If she was a Kitten Faunus, no wonder she was so afraid of him: Phoenix Faunus were legendary, almost privileged amongst other Faunus, and some were discriminatory towards their own species since almost no Grimm or human threat could stand up to them.

"Actually, I'm not that biased," Peter mentioned, blue eyes still radiating their heat. The tail came to rest once more. "Like I said: I'm not like everyone else." The girl sat up, still on the defensive but not trembling in fear of the Phoenix before her. "Now, what's your name?"

* * *

(3rd Person)

(Eternal Gardens, Mantle, Atlas. 3 days ago, 16:01 PM Atlas Time)

The Eternal Gardens, held within the Schnee Manor in what used to be Mantle, was a beautiful thing to behold. A large variety of colorful flora and amazing streams of sparkling blue water added to the mystical Aura of the place. Alan MacArthur was sitting down where his many-great grandfather Douglas MacArthur had ended the War on Terror at least a millennium ago, reminiscing on his current position. As personal guard to Weiss Schnee, he was bound to catch some form of crossfire; the constant arguments between daughter and father about her desire to attend Beacon Academy in Vale had him caught in more crossfire than even the best politicians, trying to figure out a way to make both sides see equal as his ancestor Douglas had. Problem is, he still has no idea how, so he invited both parties to an afternoon discussion in the Eternal Gardens.

"So," Alan spoke, learned accent strong as he addressed the two. "Let's begin. As each of you speaks, the other must be silent and listen to the speaker. As I am the mediator, I will do my best to keep the peace." He nodded to the father. "Mr. Schnee, as you are the adult and parent here, you have the floor first."

Alan's Scroll dinged, which he checked to find a multitude of charts on statistics of Huntsman deaths over the last century, obviously inverted.

"You know," Alan muttered, sipping on his weak tea while longing for strong black coffee. "When I asked for your side of the argument, I meant for you to actually speak, not send me statistics."

"You question the truth," the owner of the Dust company shouted, standing up violently.

"Well, considering the fact that the charts are obviously inverted, as seen with the backwards text, I question the _inverted_ truth. Nowadays, Huntsmen are more likely to die of old age than by a Grimm attack or terrorists, and even that threat is soon to fade."

"LIAR!"

"Now, now, Mr. Schnee," MacArthur calmly berated him. "It is unbecoming of a man to lose his temper. In fact, that little outburst proves the exact opposite: a liar is bound to lose his temper quicker than an honest gentleman."

"She is my daughter," he calmly explained after sitting back down. "As such, she is an heiress. She mustn't become a Huntress."

"Ah, but as such a powerful entity, she should be entitled to receive what gifts she chooses, should she not?"

"I can provide her anything, but I refuse to let her train as a Huntress—."

"Now _there's_ your major issue: attachment. You are too attached to your daughter to allow her to do a thing, much less to see a way to both protect her _and_ give her what she asks simultaneously."

"And what," he growled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Would that be?"

Alan just chuckled at the white-haired CEO. "Not 'what', but _'whom'_ : me."

" _WHAT_ ," both Schnees knocked over their chairs standing up.

"Mm-hmm. Remember: you, Mister Schnee, hired me to protect her in the first place. After all, it is a genius way to give _me_ more experience and _her_ what she wants. Besides, who says that other Huntsmen in training aren't as strong as I?"

Two hands rose to shoulder height. Alan facepalmed, seeing that coming a mile away.

" _Excluding me_ ," he specified. The hands stayed level. "You know, I'm not as strong as Pyrrha Nikos, nor as fast and agile as the Blue Blur. I'm not even as smart as Sergeant Major Aaron Sharp. I just so happen to have a mighty Semblance passed on through the generations like your own."

Weiss scoffed and rolled her eyes while her father thought over all of this.

"Fine," he finally responded. "Your wishes are granted. You may both attend Beacon. I shall arrange transportation for the both of you."

Mr. Schnee left the Gardens, an odd uncertainty in his stride. His daughter almost followed before she noticed her guard still seated on the marble bench.

"Aren't you going to follow," she asked him. He just inhaled deeply before responding.

"You know, this garden has a mysterious aura about it. Some people have hypothesized that it was this very spot that a violent war was ended over a thousand years ago." Weiss scoffed.

"You believe in too much fiction," she scolded him. He finished off his tea in one long swig.

"So? I have reason to believe it as fact. After all, Douglas MacArthur fought the fabled Second Terror War and won. And over a thousand years later, his descendant is sitting on the very spot he made peace for the very last time." She just groaned at this.

"You and your fairy tales," she shook her head as she walked off. Alan grinned.

"She'll never learn, will she," Alan asked Douglas's ghost, ridding himself of the British accent and adopting his native Texan speech. The spirit shrugged.

" _I dunno_ ," his ancestor's soul responded with a similar Southern drawl. " _I guess we'll never fig're that 'n out._ "

"Ach," Alan moaned as his tongue cried out for coffee. "I gotta get me some coffee, I'm dying over here." Douglas's ghost laughed.

" _Naw, you ain't. Believe me, you ain't got no clue what dyin' feels like, sonny._ " It was Alan's turn to chuckle.

"You do have that." He checked his wrist watch. "Gah, tea time again. I've had enough of tea for a year or so now."

" _Don't worry, kid; you only gotta last a few more days. Be grateful for that._ "

"Yeah," Alan sighed. "I'm gonna miss you, Doug."

" _I will too. See you 'round, bud._ "

* * *

(3rd person)

(1 day ago, Atlanta, Vale, 00:00 AM Vale time)

A dark figure marched down an even darker alleyway between an old storage shed and an apartment complex. His right forearm, while covered by his cloak, was glowing in a Tron-styled blue light. The same went for his left calf, even though cargo pants, crew socks, and hiking boots covered the mechanical prosthetic. A scar tore across his left eye all the way down to the tip of his nose.

A feminine figure stepped out through a door of the apartment building. She seemed inspired by ice cream, with half of her hair and one eye pink and the others brown. Her boots clomped against the concrete as she waltzed towards the dark figure.

The two figures stopped about three inches apart, the man towering at least a foot over the woman. After a few moments of tense silence, the woman wrapped her arms around the man's neck with a little hop, with the man holding her up by the waist with his prosthetic arm.

"Hey, Ice Cream," the man called the girl by her nickname.

"Soldier Boy," she whispered in his ear, still cautious about speaking out loud.

The young lovers stayed like this for a few more moments before the two broke apart, Matthew letting Neo down as she moved her arms down to hold his hands. Her brown and pink eyes met his red and yellow ones. Like her, he could change the color of his eyes with technology implanted in his skull by the Red Angels. He may have been 'betrayed' by a traitor, but he was hired by his old faction to be a mole in the Outsiders. She, on the other hand, was broken: she was terrorized by the eventual traitor at a young age, and was thus unable to speak until she met Matt.

"They been treating you well," Matt asked Neo as they walked hand-in-hand out of the alley. She nodded as her eye color changed to green. His own red and yellow ones turned a bright shade of cobalt as the two entered the public streets of downtown Atlanta.

"What about you," she spoke quietly as her head rested on his arm. He took a deep breath.

"Still alive," he muttered. "I heard that those Outsider fellows are planning on sending a handful of members to Beacon Academy, me included of course." The two turned to look each other in the eye.

"Take care for me," she ordered, yawning a little as she did. He wrapped his prosthetic arm around her shoulders and held her close.

"Now, I know how to take care of myself," Sharp joked. "It's _you_ I'm worried about." Neo giggled.

"If you weren't worried for me, _I'd_ be worried," she mentioned. A thought crossed her mind as they rounded the corner. "What about that 'Arc' kid? How's he doing?"

"Well, he's certainly improving. His parents both got slaughtered by the Bandits a week or so ago; to go with that, I hear a few of his cousins are in the Red Table, so I suspect he's taking it well as far as catastrophe goes." She shuddered at the reference to the rogue Knights of the Red Table, a band of young swordsmen inspired by the story of King Arthur.

"I just hope the Blood Hounds don't get to him," she nearly whimpered, huddling closer to her lover for warmth. The couple entered a small café miraculously still open and took a seat at the bar. Matthew slapped down around 15 lien and ordered a hot chocolate and coffee.

"They won't, trust me. After what they did to us, they'll all be dead before they manage to lay a finger on him." His left arm—still untouched by mechanics—clenched violently as he remembered all the things the research division of the Red Angels did to him. Neo rested her head on his massive chest, pacifying his anger.

The couple's drinks arrived. Matthew passed the sweeter drink to Neo and kept the coffee, which she thanked him for with a small peck on the cheek. He would've blushed since they were in public, but the café was empty outside of the waitress, who was off in the kitchen or somewhere.

After the two finished their drinks, Matthew walked hand-in-hand with Neo as he walked her back to her apartment complex. She yawned and used his right arm as a pillow as they walked the rest of the way to her temporary home.

Finally at her home, the lovers stopped. Matt and Neo gazed into each other's eyes for some time, having let their true colors show after entering the alley. She did a little hop and wrapped her arms around his neck as she did earlier that night, letting him hold her up with his prosthetic arm. Despite how tired the two were, they shared a short but passionate kiss before releasing one another and going to their respective homes.

A few minutes later, Matthew's Scroll dinged; opening it up, he read his girlfriend's message: "Goodnight, have fun at Beacon". He smiled and returned the message:

"Love you too, g'night."

* * *

 **END**

 **A/N: How was that for an ending? Keep in mind, I've never done 'fluff' before, as I'm more of an action guy (as seen with the vast majority of my failed fics).**

 **More sub-factions of the Red Angels have been introduced, so let me describe them real quick:**

 **Knights of the Red Table—this gang, notorious for its use of Dust- and Aura-enhanced swords and red shields, is (as if not obvious) influenced by the story of Lancelot in King Arthur's tale.**

 **Red Bandits—these fellows are influenced by … I forgot the guy's name, but you know who I'm talking about.**

 **Blood Hounds—this is the research division of the Red Angels, infamous and named for their willingness to hunt people down just to do their research, just like a blood hound.**

 **So, one little bitty ship has sailed already. Just to explain, Matt still works** _ **with**_ **the Red Angels for two reasons: 1) to keep an eye on his girlfriend, and 2) to earn some extra cash. Besides, the Angels don't take kindly to traitors; as well as this, he owes the Blood Hounds for putting him back together.**

 **Stick around for the poll I'm going to set up, and think about your answers carefully: who do you think is going to be on the OC team?**

 **Be sure to drop a review if you liked it, and I'll see you fellas around.** _ **Adios**_ **.**


	3. The Least of These

_**Heroes Reborn**_

Sequel to _**Rise of the Archangel**_

Chapter III: The Least of These…

* * *

(Josiah, 1st person)

(Beacon)

Things went by so fast last night that I don't remember it all; either that or I was thinking too fast for time itself. I'm not exactly known for remembering things; never was, not now, probably never will be.

As usual, I was a little cocky and decided to wait until the last minute to get where I was supposed to be. This was one of the few times I was actually late for something: I'd packed several bags of chips and cookies, a handful of spare hoodies and shorts, some extra socks, and a pair of red sneakers; as well as all of this, I grabbed my Hoplon and plasma-bracelets. Despite my inhuman speed, I still managed to miss the airship; don't blame me, I got stopped by traffic and forgot where I was going.

The airship was already a hundred yards from the dock, so I had two options: I could either try to jump for it, which was risky even for me; or I could put my innovation to the test. Going for the latter, I took off my bracelets and shield and hurled them up into the air; the weapons came down as, of all the things in the world, a blue hover-board.

I stepped on Windrider, the air-powered hovering platform, and twisted my right foot (which was at the back of the board) to accelerate. Windrider and I shot off like a bullet, reaching 300 mph easy; I had no problems seeing through the wind, being able to run at Mach 20 without goggles or problems. Using the delay in gravity to my advantage, I flipped around and rode up the airship to what equates to the roof before getting off. Windrider transformed into its ordinary Hoplon and bracelets, leaving the shield in my hands and the bracelets wrapped around my wrists. Riding the airship at 80 mph felt great, the wind whipping around in my hair, the scenery flashing by me slowly.

Suddenly, the roof beneath me caved in and… no, wait, it was a trap door. Dang, I liked the wind. I landed in a crouch on the wood-coated metal floor. Standing in front of me was a blond boy I recognized instantly.

"Milo," I called him by name. The Fox Faunus with twin tails smiled at me from behind his glasses, eyes trained on his Scroll.

In case you don't know who this kid is, let me explain: Milo Pride is a blond boy with twin fox tails, each one the result of a set of experiments designed to unleash this mystical energy more powerful than Aura. Supposedly, this energy—called Chaos—could enhance someone's natural abilities and even teleport massive objects around like it was nothing. This Chaos Project captured my brothers and I, Milo, and a few others to put all of this Chaos into one human body, thus making either the ultimate life form or the most powerful weapon. Milo, who was already smarter than most professors, got even smarter with the cost of twin tails, causing everyone to make fun of him and call him 'Tails'. As for my brothers, one of them gained the ability to summon Chaos inside of him at the cost of the inability to control it; the other is now telepathic and telekinetic, paying for that with sudden premonitions. In my case, it was even scarier: I'm now able to run at Mach 30 max (yes, I tested that out) at the price of blue everything, emerald tattoos, and some psychotic enemies such as the ginger-haired Roman Torchwick. And yet, somehow, we're all still here.

"Never thought I'd see you here," I continued, somewhat excited that my friend was going to Beacon.

"Never thought you'd be late," he mentioned. I stuttered, trying to remember my excuses.

"I forgot where it was," I replied quickly. "Also, eight o'clock traffic is not exactly calm and collective."

"Neither are you," again with the truth. He continued writing some sort of code on his Scroll, probably planning on programming or adjusting something.

"What're you doing, Tails," I wondered. He chuckled.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm doing some research. I want to make for sure I'm going where I want to go."

I nodded, readjusting my gloves and leaning against the wall of the airship.

* * *

(15 minutes later)

When we got off the airship, I was getting fidgety; I hated enclosed spaces with a passion, and it was difficult to keep that hatred hidden. About halfway through the ride, I gave Windrider to Milo, letting him look for damages and malfunctions in the hoverboard. Even after he gave the board back to me and informed me on the damage report, I was still significantly uncomfortable.

Finally, the airship landed, and I was the first person off. I didn't scare anyone, per se, but those already on the Beacon docks sure did have a shock when I came screaming out of the airship like a ballistic missile. First thing I did when I got off: ran to the auditorium and proceeded to trip on something. My face met the floor, scraping against the hard surface as I slid 5 feet and smoking like I'd just stepped out of a fire.

After peeling myself off the floor and shaking off all the soot, I managed to sneak a peek at the object I tripped on: a redhead girl wearing mostly black with the exception of a red hood, a red box at the small of her back, and the hem of her dress-looking thing. She was on the ground with a black boot on her back.

The owner of the black boot was a disgustingly familiar green sight. He had a dragon tattoo on his right arm, a green bracelet on his left, green hair, blue eyes, a leather jacket, and—outside of all that—everything I wore on a regular basis. I started glowing blue as I recognized the bastard.

"Scourge," I almost shouted as I rose to full height. My asshole rival, cigarette lit between his lips, just flipped me off and smiled devilishly.

"Whaddup, Jay," the rogue Outsider replied, obviously not caring about me being angry. "How the bro's been treatin' ya?"

"What sort of psychopath let you in here," I growled. A nearby blonde just looked back and forth between us two rivals.

"Ah, good seein' you too—."

"Get your boot off the girl," my tone became threatening. I shoved him away, his boot leaving the girl's back to maintain his personal balance. "Thank you. Now _adios_." I held my hand out and, calling on the Chaos energy inside me, let out a beam of light that sent Scourge flying away.

A few moments of silence passed as I turned to face the stage. The blonde was the first to speak.

"What the Hell was that all about," she demanded. By the tone of her voice, I could tell she didn't trust me.

"A rival," I responded simply. "Don't ask, it's a long story."

A pair of hands gripped me by the collar of my hoodie.

"You tripped on my sister," she growled threateningly, eyes red with anger. Oh, how she reminded me of myself.

"Okay, let's get one thing straight: I tried to jump over her, I caught Scourge's ankle, and I landed face-first. End of story."

A little while passed, the blonde still held me up by the hood. Finally, she let me go.

"Fine," she spoke, letting her red eyes and fiery temper cool down. "But just so you know, if you ever hurt my sister, you will suffer."

"Lesson learned," I said, giving a thumbs up before digging in my pack and pulling out a pack of Oreos. The redhead I now recognized to be Ruby Rose was still getting up. In a blur, I had her back up on her feet with an opened package of cookies in hand.

" _No flirting with her either_ ," the blonde called after me.

"If I were flirting, I'd have given her a rose," I walked over to greet Tails. "Remind me again: what's up with Windrider?"

"The forward wind input tubes need to be replaced, the wind output system needs recalibration, and the boost system needs to be reset," said the two-tailed Fox Faunus. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got someone to talk to—."

Ozpin clearing his throat reached our ears. Throughout all that conversation, I couldn't remember the exact wording. All I really remembered was the gist of it: something about knowledge not being enough to be Huntsmen and Huntresses.

"It's like he wasn't even there," Ruby's voice brought me back.

"I'm sorry, what," I asked. "That whole thing went by so slowly I'm unfocused." Milo pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed at my saying that.

"You are an embarrassment to Remnant," he growled. "I don't know how you manage to learn anything."

"I don't know either," I responded, totally joking. Milo pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he muttered. Ruby and her sister burst out laughing as I shot Milo a playful death glare.

"That was a joke and you knew it."

"Heluva good one," the blond brute almost shouted through her laughing fit. Ruby stopped laughing and shot her sister a death glare.

"YANG," she yelled. "YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO CURSE!"

"I doubt she does," Milo muttered. I elbowed him in the ribcage as Yang turned on the twin-tailed teen.

"Excuse me," the blonde barked. Tails was unfazed by this show of anger.

"You heard me," he muttered. "Besides, I dare you to try and ask me something I don't know."

"Okay then," Yang steamed, clearly thinking. "What's—."

"Four thousand ninety-six," he interrupted. "Or were you asking for the square root, which is 8." Yang's jaw dropped, staring at the boy. I just chuckled at this.

"So which—," Ruby began before Tails cut her off with his impossible intellect.

"Titanium-steel alloy," he replied, "with a steel blade and a Dust-infused titanium alloy on the inside. Gold ignition coil, iron magazines, three-meter long barrel. Need I continue about Crescent Rose?" I could sense that Ruby's brain just melted. My turn.

"Now, Tails," I said. "Who invented Windrider?"

"Hmm," he muttered, clearly confused about this question. "Well, the design is similar to those that Scourge and his allies build, so I should assume that Windrider is a product of their ingenuity."

"Wrong," I grinned, knowing full and well that I never told him who built my precious board. Ruby and Yang both turned to face me as Tails' world broke into a million pieces.

"Wait a minute," Tails shouted. "If they didn't build Windrider, and I didn't either, then who did?"

"Who's Windrider," Ruby muttered. I unsheathed my shield and stroked the rim.

"There's a reason I call 'Rider my baby," I mentioned, pulsing my Aura through the defensive weapon. The shield and bracelets fused together, becoming my infamous hovering skateboard. "I built her myself."

Tails' and Yang's minds both exploded as Ruby stared at my creation in awe.

"C-can I touch it," the young red-haired girl stuttered, probably nervous around me. I set the fueled-up board on the ground, letting it hover a few moments before climbing on.

"Oh, no," I responded, watching her eyes fall. "You can't just touch this thing; you have to get the full experience." I stepped off, holding it still with my right foot, before lifting her spirits instantly: "Climb aboard."

The hyperactive girl got all sorts of giddy when she heard me say that. Her silver eyes seemed to sparkle and shine with a glee I haven't seen in a while.

"Really," she asked, rather silent considering how excited she was. I nodded.

"You gotta let it know you're getting on," I told her as she set one boot on the board. "Put some of your Aura into it."

As soon as she got her balance on the board, she let some of her rose-red Aura flow into the board. Windrider turned a shade of red, turning black at some points, as some of the parts shifted around to match her Aura. Ruby made a little squeak upon seeing it. I crouched down to look at her symbol, then read beneath the burning rose.

"Sunset Rose," I read the new name of the board. "She's a beauty, isn't she? I designed her specifically to do that when someone other than me steps on."

"Wow," Ruby whispered, totally surprised at it. "It's just like Crescent Rose. Okay, so how do I get it to go?" I chuckled, knowing how to control it judging by how it rearranged itself without acceleration or deceleration pedals.

"Well, Sunset didn't include any pedals, so she runs by a single thought. You think it, it does it. I used that style before, had to become one with the board, and I couldn't do that. Be careful, it may have a nasty kick to it—."

I spoke too late, as Sunset Rose jolted forward, leaving Ruby behind and stopping when it realized its rider was gone. Ruby felt the full force of gravity, falling flat on her rear.

"I warned you, didn't I," I mentioned as I helped her back to her feet. "Don't feel bad, I think that's happened to me at least ten times before."

"Ow," she muttered, dusting herself off. "Okay, maybe I need a little more practice with that thing. Oh, but I want one." I chuckled, recognizing that attitude as my own.

"It takes a lot of practice and a lot of dedication to get as good as I am with Rider," I explained as I retrieved Sunset Rose/Windrider. "It also takes some bonding time, as it basically becomes a part of you. I think you've got what it takes, though; Rider doesn't just transform for anyone."

"Can you help me build my own," she asked, still as excited as a puppy. I couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Sure," I responded, knowing full and well that she didn't know Rider's design. "After all, it's not every day that I get something to do outside of run and ride."

"Hey, where'd everyone go," Yang asked as she looked around the now-empty amphitheatre. Sure enough, no one was here except for myself, Ruby, Yang, Milo, and the scrappy-looking sandy-haired boy he was talking to. Milo and the unnamed young man were both rather engaged, seeming impossibly interactive with one another.

"May wanna ask those two," I thought aloud, doing as I said and walking over to the two.

As I neared, I overheard their conversation, which involved a bladed machine-gun gauntlet and supernatural powers. The strange stuff I hear constantly from hippies, you know.

"Well, I don't know of any other incidents where it's happened," Milo told the boy, "so I'm inclined to not believe you. However, since I have no proof against it, I'll just have to take your word for it. But, why's this tie in to what you want me to build for you?"

"I don't want you to build it for me," the young man replied. "I just want to know how _you_ would recommend that I went about it—."

"So," I interrupted. "What're you two talking about?"

"He wants to know how to basically personalize a weapon," Milo informed me.

"One that turns into something that matches my Aura," the other boy continued. "Well, if I can unlock it, that is." I sensed a lie in his voice, and wasn't afraid to show it, earning me a glare from Milo. "Fine, you win; I locked it myself. It's just so powerful that I don't want to bring it out again."

"See, Milo," I smarted off to my partner. "I know what I'm doing." Back to the boy. "I know how to do that; did it with my board. Whadda you want?"

"I don't know," came the response. "Just some kind of weapon that matches me, I guess." I nodded.

"A sword," I recommended. He shook his head.

"Already got one," he told me, nodding to the blade on his hip.

"A gun," I toyed with the idea in my head.

"Nah," we both decided, not thinking it matched him. An idea came into my mind.

"Ooh! I got it."

"What is it," he asked, flinching when I gripped his shoulder and poured my Aura into his own. An image came to my mind as my Aura matched his to a weapon.

"What on Remnant was that," Milo demanded.

"I took a look at his Aura," I told my twin-tailed ally. "Take a guess at what his weapon is."

* * *

 **END**

 **A/N: I've kept that chapter going on far too long. I do like reading long chapters, but not writing them. That was a full six pages on Microsoft Word.**

 **Remember what I said about me changing Jaune around? That comes in right now: Jaune's power is so strong that he locked his own Aura to protect others. Back story on that later on. While we're speaking of Jaune, tell me what you think his backup weapon will be (yes, that's what he's talking about; sorry for not specifying that).**

 **Alright, I'm taking a break for a while. Consider all this a spring break hiatus. Next chapter you'll all see something hilarious (hopefully, if I'm in the mood), and I'll see you all later.** _ **Adios.**_


	4. First True Test

**WARNING: SOME CONTENT IS VERY DESCRIPTIVE. VIOLENCE AND 'OTHER THINGS' ARE REFERENCED. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.**

 **THE AUTHOR DOES NOT OWN RWBY, GHOST RIDER, SONIC, OR ANYTHING ELSE MENTIONED.**

* * *

 _ **Heroes Reborn**_

Sequel to _**Rise of the Archangel**_

Chapter IV: First True Test

* * *

(Matthew Sharp, 3rd person)

(21:29 PM Vale time)

Despite having a microchip implanted in his brain, recording and controlling his every move, Matthew still tried calling two important people in his life. He started first with his half-brother Aaron Sharp, typing his Scroll frequency into his own Scroll. A small circle appeared on the screen and span for a little while before his brother answered the call.

"Chief Master Sergeant Aaron Sharp," the man on the other side greeted, sounding horrendously tired. The image of an exhausted 20-year-old appeared on the screen, dressed in Atlasian Air Force fatigues with the Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force insignia pinned to the shoulder and left breast. He appeared to be on a Bullhead, flying to some place outside the kingdoms considering the static the connection was experiencing.

"Hey, Aaron," Matthew returned. "It's me, Matt." Aaron paused for a few seconds, then grinned widely.

"Well, if it isn't my annoying baby brother," the Sergeant joked, clearly glad to see his brother. "How're things going for you?"

"Surprisingly well," the unwilling servant replied, smiling with Aaron. "I made it to Beacon with a handful of Outsiders. Haven't heard anything from the other guys in a while."

"Wow, that's amazing," Aaron said, expressing his surprise through the clear drowsiness. "You gotten that chip in the teapot fixed yet?"

"Nah, party's still going strong," Matt replied, going with the figure of speech referring to the microchip. "What about you? I see you're on a Bullhead, so you've got to be going somewhere."

"Yeah," Aaron laughed. "Classified stuff. Can't say a thing." He let out a yawn that rivaled those of Ursae. "Good God, I'm tired. Haven't slept since yesterday. First mission, damn near lost a fellow pilot, got the Hell confused out of me by some guys I can't talk about. Took a few tests, just got promoted to Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force, looking at a few more weeks or months for my next promotion, depending on what all goes on. That sort of thing." Another yawn took over his body.

"You certainly had a full week," Matt chuckled, glad to see his older brother doing so well. "Well, it's been good seeing you again. I have to make another call, so I'll catch up with you later. Get some rest, Aaron."

"Heh, I'll keep wishing," came the short reply. "If you need anything, let me know. Love you, brother."

"Love you too, bro. _Adios_."

"See you 'round." Aaron's image faded as the call ended.

On his next call, Matthew clipped on a cover to the back of his Scroll to ensure that no one else could see it. He then proceeded to dial the number of the most important person of his life: Neo.

Her real name was Virgo Artemis, but since the Blood Hounds got to the two of them, she was called Neo and he was given the title Orion. Her real eye color used to be a bright green, as her hair was brown, but the Blood Hounds had a sick sense of humor and dyed half of her hair pink and one of her eyes brown. They bleached his once-was brown hair and dyed it a dark blood red, changing his right eye's iris color to a sulfur yellow and his left to a blood red. They exchanged her green and peach colors for pink and brown, and his blue jeans and biker jacket traded places with a gold-trimmed red shirt, dark red pants, and a red- and gold-trimmed black leather biker jacket. Her sneakers became heeled boots while his boots were tossed out in favor of combat-styled boots.

The Scroll's screen displayed an image of Virgo laying on her bed. The image was rather surprising, as she'd shed her bi-colored jacket in favor of a green top. Her legs were crossed, which allowed him to see a pair of peach-colored stockings covering her legs and feet. He could now see clearly the scars along her shoulders and chest, marks which reminded him of when he first encountered what the Hounds did to her.

"Hello, Orion," she sighed, smiling brightly. He returned the smile as his eye color changed back to its former blue glory.

"Hey, Neo," he breathed, glad to see her again. "I'm getting kind of lonely, being away from you for so long."

"It's hasn't even been a day," she rolled her eyes. Matt smirked.

"So? Can't I still miss you?" Her pink and brown eyes changed to a soft green.

"Only if I can miss you too." His violently-colored eyes reverted to their bright blue.

"I wish you were here," he admitted. She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I wish you were here," her voice cracked a little. "Some creeps keep cornering me, trying to force me to do things I don't want to do." She sniffled, letting her legs drop.

"What'd they do this time," Matt asked, concern rising in my voice. She moved a part of her green camisole down, showing a bruise on the left side of her chest.

"It just keeps getting worse," she muttered, the soft green of her eyes changing to an even softer green color.

"Well, hang in there, Virgo," he told her. "I'll be home as soon as I get the chance."

A loud _boom_ came from the speakers on his Scroll. She inhaled sharply, clearly terrified of whatever it was.

"Virgo, what was that," he asked of his girlfriend. She held her scroll closer to her chest, obviously terrified.

"They're here," Neo spoke weakly, terror creeping up in her voice. "I'm sorry, Matt; I can't let you see this. I love you."

"Virgo, wait. _Virgo_."

The sound of wood splintering reached his ears. Shouting ensued, and Virgo's Scroll dropped. There was a few second pause as he heard Virgo's panicking voice, then the connection cut off violently.

" _VIRGO!_ "

The connection remained broken. A tear welled up in Matthew's red eye, not afraid to show his worry for Virgo.

"Hmm," a voice crowed behind him. "Watching porn, are we?"

Matthew's worry and sadness violently changed to a nearly infinite rage, causing his eyes to change color and the prosthetic arm to transform into a plasma cannon. He let his Scroll fall, stood up violently, and pointed the barrel of the cannon at the boy's nose. Cardin Winchester's friends' arms reached for the ceiling.

"Want to repeat that," he growled harshly, his golden-orange Aura flowing around him; his voice deepened drastically, almost making him sound like a demon. Cardin's allies were evidently terrified at this show of untamed anger.

"N-n-now hold on-n," Dove Bronzewing stuttered. "H-he was j-just joking. Yeah, just joking."

"Then why did I find it highly offensive," Orion growled, his voice still satanic in some way. The weapon reverted back into his arm, still glowing a venomous yellow.

Cardin's three allies abandoned him in favor of their own safety. Now that Matthew's arm was no longer dangerous, the racist idiot just let out a cocky laugh.

"I knew you were too weak to take the shot," Winchester taunted, grinning even more when Orion shot him a death glare. "It's like you _want_ your girlfriend to get ra—."

Cardin never got the chance to finish that statement before a blur of blue came between the two men.

"WHOA, hang on," the blue blur shouted, a bag of chips in hand. "Look, I don't know either of you, but I can tell there's some tension here. So, I have a proposition: let's calm down, take a chill pill, if you will; then, we leave each other alone for tonight, get some shut-eye. Tomorrow, you can kill each other 'til you're both deader than Death itself."

"And if we don't," Cardin basically turned him down, regretting it instantly.

"Then I can tackle you going at Mach 20," Josiah said viciously as his hair took on a violent cobalt glow, causing Cardin to roll his eyes. "So I suggest you let everyone else get some shuteye or you'll see what real speed is. Sound like a good time? I didn't think so. Good, now off to bed. Matthew, your girl will be safe; I have friends on the streets who can handle it. Cardin, no more messing with Matthew or we'll play basketball with you as the ball and the ground as the basket. Kapeesh? Good."

With that, the speed-demon vanished in a cloud of smoke and a streak of sapphire and chips that disappeared soon after the fact.

* * *

(Josiah, 1st person)

 _Man alive,_ that was weird. Those guys looked like they were about to kill each other. Well, I'll expect them to do so tomorrow when I'm at my peak. Right now, though, is a bad time to catch me off-guard. Bad time for me, that is, not for those who catch me off-guard.

At the moment, I was eating a bag of Doritos, the nacho ones. I normally eat junk food like Doritos and Oreos because I can literally just run it off; in fact, if it weren't for the Chaos flowing inside of me, I would have to eat more junk food than most gamers do in a week just so I can run at Mach 1. If I were to run at Mach 30 for five minutes, I'd have burned well over 3 trillion calories; the only real reason I run at those speeds is because of the Chaos experiments.

"Dude, how—so fast—I think—like, ADHD, or something," I heard Tails say about me, though what he said was kind of garbled because I was running from wall to wall, ceiling to floor, in a blur.

"I'm sorry, what," I asked. "I couldn't quite catch that."

"My point exactly," he responded. "I don't know how you can run so fast at this time of night. I think you've got, like, ADHD or something like that."

"What," I drew out for emphasis on how crazy that sounded. "There is no way on Remnant that I'm ADHD—oh, man. It's like we're at a sleep over; look at all the girls in their pajamas."

"Noted," Tails said bluntly.

"Honestly," another boy, this one a little older than Tails and I, mentioned. "I think Tails is right; you may have had ADHD before those Chaos experiments."

"How do you know Tails," I demanded of the young man.

"It was on the newspapers all over Remnant last year when it was exposed," Tails explained. "Who _doesn't_ know?"

"Hmm… good point. Who are you, anyways, and how do you know about us?"

"Name's Peter Christian," said the older teen. "I know because Tails is right; besides, I'm a Phoenix Faunus." My jaw fell. "And pick your jaw up, I'm not like other Phoenixes." My jaw defied gravity.

"Okay, but what leads you to believe that I'm ADHD?"

"You never seem to stay in one spot," Peter explained. "You can't stay on the same topic, and the world seems to go slowly in your mind, no?" My jaw dropped at his exact analyses.

"He taught me my analytical skills," Tails informed me. My brain started pouring out of my ears when he said that. I never knew that someone was initially smarter than Milo.

"Well, I'm off," said Peter. "Need to get some shut-eye before tomorrow. You should, too, if you want to do well in the initiation."

He left, leaving me to my own strange antics. I must've stayed up until 10:30 that night, because I was still full of energy.

* * *

(The next morning)

At around 8:22 in the morning, I arose and bolted around, getting ready for the day. I skidded to a stop in the lunchroom, only to find that everyone else was still asleep. How do I manage to do that?

"You too," said a matured voice. I turned to see someone sipping on a cup of coffee, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a black leather jacket, maroon cargo jeans, black boots, and a red shirt under his jacket. His dark brown hair was close-crop, almost as if he were already accustomed to a life in the military. His eyes seemed reversed, with red pupils and black irises. While in appearance and voice he seemed like Scourge, something about him seemed different. Since Chaos was just a more powerful version of Synthetic Aura, I was able to see a slight Aura about everyone; this guy didn't have an Aura, not even Synthetic. Did he run off of Chaos like I, or did he just not have an Aura?

"Dude, I just got up," I told him, straightening out my gloves and golden bracelets. He smiled.

"I've been up since seven," he informed me. "Nasty habit, no thanks to the Schnee's. Hopefully I can get more shut-eye later on this year."

"Yeesh," I whimpered. "Wait, you work for _those_ guys?" He nodded.

"Guard for their youngest daughter, Weiss," he confirmed. "Sort of tiresome, being the mediator between sisters, father and daughter, mother and daughter, sometimes Grimm killer extraordinaire. Not much to do around there."

"Yeah? Try being an ADHD Chaos freak with insane speed. The world looks like it's going in slow motion."

We both shared a moment or two of light chuckling.

"Alan MacArthur," he introduced himself, holding out a hand for me to shake.

"Josiah Bluebonnet," I took his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Many other drowsy first-years dragged themselves in the room like a horde of zombies, our cue to split. Little did I know that we'd meet again later that day in an unexpected manner.

* * *

(Initiation, 2 hours in)

I could barely hear myself think over the sounds of the wind rushing in my ears; despite running at insanely high speeds, the roar of the beast behind me was louder than the wind ahead of me. Tails had partnered with that Peter guy from last night, and I wound up with Alan. Tails and Peter were laying down cover fire from the air while Alan and I attacked/ran from the ground. From the shadows, Alan unleashed his not-Semblance, becoming the Ghost Rider and firing off several flaming rounds at the dino-Grimm's flank. The beast I was running from was a Mega-Raptor, a massive black T-Rex with a clubbed tail and white bone armor. Its red eyes glared down at me with the unhidden rage made known by Grimm. We've already been fighting it for five minutes or more, leaving me both angry and tired. The Chaos inside of me was starting to wear down.

"DIE ALREADY," the Rider yelled as it continued peppering the beast with demonic rounds. The clubbed tail twisted towards me, then smashed me underneath its weight. That's about when my dark side got the best of me.

When the tail came off of me, my usual blue glow was replaced with a dark navy smoke-like substance composed entirely of Chaos. My eyes were no longer green, but white. My pupils were gone, but thankfully my eyes weren't glowing.

With a simple bound, I soared over the creature, began spinning rapidly, and slammed down into its back. My body tore through the armored hide of the huge Grimm, and the speed only increased the damage. At Mach 30, I caused a miniature explosion that blew the creature to pieces. I landed in a crouch, then collapsed as the entity I called Dark Sonic withdrew.

When I woke back up, it turns out that Alan and Tails both got their respective pieces for their teammates: the white bishops.

* * *

(3 minutes later)

The Death Stalker stood no real chance. Similar to but unlike the Schnee's, Jaune Arc's family had a hereditary enigma: dual/twin Semblances. Jaune himself was born with Mimicry—allowing him to imitate any Semblance he saw—and Holy Fire, the opposite of his cousin Lancelot's Hellfire and Darkness. The only reason it lasted this long was because he was too afraid to unleash his power after what happened only four years ago, when he was attending Signal Academy. Beowolves, at least a dozen of them, tore free of their cages and attacked one of his friends; those Grimm were incinerated with Holy Fire before they had the chance to see him. In that attack, he nearly killed that friend. He refused to harm another person, and therefore locked his Aura to prevent such an incident from reoccurring.

Yet here he stood, Lie Ren beat up by a boulder, Nora and Pyrrha trying to fend off the titanic scorpion with his unnecessary aid with Crocea Mors in hand. The thick keratin armor on the arachnid was nearly impossible to penetrate in the first place, becoming an even worse issue when another Grimm, this one a spider-like Arachne Gigas, stormed in to help its relative. The Arachne Gigas could be summed up in three words: big angry spider. On its black belly was the red hourglass symbolic of the Black Widow, claw-like apparati on the feet of its eight long legs, and four pairs of the terrifying red eyes only a Grimm could have.

When this second insectoid came in, Jaune had a painful flashback to Signal. Had he been two feet closer, he would've missed the Beowolves and killed his friend; then again, if he had waited, or done nothing at all, the monsters would've mauled the survivor until not even bone remained. That reminder brought him back to the real world, where his massive Aura reserve broke its own cage. He was not going to have a repeat of Signal; after all, it was the reason he was here the way he was.

"Pyrrha, Nora, get down," he ordered as lightning arced down his blade and fire engulfed its corresponding shield. Now was the time to set things right, and he wasn't going to miss it.

With one sweeping arc of his sword, electricity blasted out in a wave that immobilized the Death Stalker; the Arachne jumped over the shockwave (no pun intended), receiving no punishment from the sparks. The farmer boy took this chance to let the electricity fade out, change it to thermal energy, and scorched through the scorpion's pincers. He used its head to vault over its body and stabbed the creature of darkness in the keratin-armored back. Fire literally cooked the creature from the inside and killed it instantly; only a few seconds later did he find out where the Arachne Gigas went.

Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren were all trapped in spider webbing, caught off-guard by the powerful menace. He knew all about the rumors of this creature; despite the fact that a team of Huntsmen and Huntresses were killed by one half this size, he and his brother Fieri were able to work together and destroy an entire nest of them. He put away his father's weapons and drew his own: Polaris, a blade that reacted to his own Aura and Holy Fire, designed by Josiah Bluebonnet and put together last night. Actually, it was just a modified version; he'd already started on Polaris on his own before he went to Signal and finished it a few years after the incident.

The mighty white-gold blade in hand, he almost literally poured Holy Fire into the weapon and charged the monster. It turned to face him, but its reaction was far too late. With one quick swipe and a raging inferno blasting through its belly, the Arachne Gigas burned to embers before it could so much as turn around the full 180.

Neither arachnid stood a sliver of a chance. Without his Aura, Jaune had almost no choice but to act frail; with such a reserve on his side, he was a different man altogether.

"I have a lot of explaining to do, don't I," asked Jaune. Pyrrha nodded in affirmation as he hacked away the cobwebs with one powerful swing and, with a short heave, tore the thick threads off as if it were but paper.

' _Way to make your teammates trust you,_ ' Jaune scolded himself as he helped Pyrrha and the others out of the sticky webbing. ' _They're so abandoning me at the next turn_.'

 **END**

* * *

 **A/N: That was long and difficult. Apologies for not updating in a while. I may be a little bit longer in terms of posting quickly; college stuff and my eBook come first, but I haven't forgotten you guys. Just hang in there.**

 **By the way, do you like what I did with Jaune? The massive Aura reserves certainly make more sense now, don't they? Almost everything makes more sense now, I should think. Keep in mind that I don't intend on keeping one of the characters in Beacon, so be ready for that. Otherwise, I'll be seeing you all next time.** _ **Adios**_ **.**


End file.
